Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” I mutter.
“Hey, I’m a bartender. This is my job, listen to all the sad sacks tell their story. Least I can get is a laugh out of it now and then. Didn’t you say the first night she walked in here that she don’t belong in Bettino’s? I guess you were right all along. Didn’t figure on her staying around here forever.”
“I should have listened to my damn instincts from the start,” I say morosely. I call a car and go home.
I sit on my couch, remote in hand, and never turn the TV on. I stare into the dark, shoes off, silence buzzing around me. I hate my place, hate everything without Serena in it. She had a good time, that’s what she left me with. I’ve been learning to read people, manipulate people for business since I was about eight years old. I thought I knew her, that’s all I keep telling myself. I thought I knew Serena and that she loved me, too.
Maybe it was the intensity, how hard and fast I fell for her in a short time. Or that I saw her feisty but distressed the first night and wanted to rescue her with some screwed up hero complex. It could be that she was different, not impressed by me or my money, seemed to hate that I was in the Mob, that I had a driver, a fancy car, fancy apartment and everything. Like she cared about me in spite of those trappings of success and danger and mystery—the kind of crap that draws most women in. Possibly Foz was right and I’m disoriented because no one ever dumped me before. It shocked me and makes me feel powerless.
Or maybe it's the fact that I’m in love for the first time in my life, and she wants nothing to do with me. That I was happy for a month or so and now I’m fucked. I can’t understand why she left me so suddenly, or why I don’t have any hope of getting her back. Because, like it or not, I do know Serena. And when she says she’s done, she’s done. I respect her statement, even if it feels wrong.
Everything in me feels like a fraying rope. I’m jumping out of my skin, restless, almost fearful. Frantic, I message Lynette without checking what time it is. She replies: You’d better be lying in a pool of your own blood and none of the other contacts on your phone answered. I was asleep. Do you know how hard it is for a pregnant woman to get comfortable?
Sorry, I reply, I need your opinion.
She calls me. “What’s the catastrophe?”
“Remember the woman that stitched up Louie?”
“Am I likely to forget the night my husband was shot, Jacky? Of course I do. I sent her a goddamn fruit basket the next day. She called and thanked me. She’s sweet but pretty naïve considering the fact she was willing to dig out bullets in the back room of a bar. What about her?”
“She walked out on me.”
“Oh. This is the kind of call I would’ve gotten in high school except nobody ever turned you down back then. This has to have you pretty freaked out. Tell me what happened, don’t leave anything out. I love me some messy relationship drama,” she says cheerfully.
“Glad I can entertain,” I say wryly.
“You woke me up. You sure as fuck better be amusing,” she cackles.
“I was late meeting her for dinner because there was a complication at a meeting.”
“What kind of complication?”
“The kind that got me a knife in the side.”
“Shit. Well I’m assuming since we’re talking right now it wasn’t too bad.”
“It was bad enough. She drove me to Bettino’s and sewed me up. Then she broke up with me. It came out of nowhere, she just said tell Foz I said thanks and she told me she had a good time. That was it. I was ready to move her into my penthouse, Lynette. I’ve never been serious about anyone the way I was with her,” I confess miserably.
“Did Louie tell you what happened when he got home the night he got shot?”
“No, why?”
“I lost my shit. I had been so scared and could’ve lost him—I think I broke every crystal thing we got for our wedding last year, and I screamed at him, told him he was killing me with his stupid ass hijinks and he can either grow up and use some common sense or he can expect divorce papers. I think my soul left my body when I heard he was shot, and I was trapped in that horrible loop in my mind of losing him, of my whole life stretching out without him. How I was having this baby that would grow up without his dad. I’ve never been scared like that in my life. I was terrified and mad at myself because I knew what I was getting into but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel it when it happens, when he is in danger.”